The story of my Vespa GT200.

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As a small vehicle that is especially vulnerable to other people not looking when they change lanes and other forms of lacklustre driving, I find myself frequently covering the horn like we all cover our brakes in situations that call for it. If I’m coming up on a vehicle that gives any impression of being a jerk or reveals small defects in driving judgement I’ve got those escape routes planned and am using my space margins.

The horn has saved me from having to do any creative split-second maneuvering thus far. One blast at someone who nearly changes lanes into me can send the offender swerving back into their original lane, hugging the side, and driving 20km/hr less than they were. Pretty sweet result out of that Wolo horn. (Mua ha ha ha!)

Today someone peeled out in from of me from their entrance onto the highway. I am actually shocked that it has taken so long for this to happen to me (I’ve been commuting since July now). I was able to brake alright but had to break hard, so I laid on the horn for a short blast just so they were aware. The car kind of freaked out. Like swerved, almost pulled over (on the highway!), drove super-slow, and then finally changed lanes to take a left to wherever they were going.

I actually felt a little bad for them. Then I had a moment of panic that they would find me at work and spaz at me. (One never knows when one drives something distinctive.)

I mentioned this to a coworker and she immediately said, “It’s probably because you look like a cop. They thought they were in trouble and had to pull over.”

I’ve been watching Happy Valley on Netflix lately (sooooooo… good) and am totally digging Sergent Catherine Cawood’s florescent tinged authority. She puts on her bright yellow police vest with utility pockets and gets it done. The idea that I might look anything like her makes me very glad, though I’m not bent on being in mortal danger to the extent that she is in the series.

(Swoon.)

Saw myself all kitted out for rain in the reflection of a doorway and instantly believed the police theory. Huh. I think I like it.

(I promise that I look tougher when I’m not laughing and petting my dog who is very happy I’m home. For real.)